


Making The Angel Sing

by avyssoseleison



Series: Unholy Fuck [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (mentioned but also generally), Alternate Universe, Angel Castiel, Blasphemy, Bottom Castiel, Demon Dean Winchester, Denial of Feelings, Dirty Talk, Dominant Dean, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Virgin Kink, and i do too, because Cas's mojo renews his body all the time and he likes it and dean likes it, it's a demon and an angel fucking believe there'll be plenty of that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 01:53:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1840018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avyssoseleison/pseuds/avyssoseleison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An angel and a demon being fuck buddies may not be the most conventional thing ever, but then again, why would an angel and a demon care about conventions? As it is, both of them are content to do each other on a regular basis, simply blowing off steam, forgetting their duties and failures, with no emotions whatsoever. Because how could there be any kinds of emotions involved between spawns of heaven and hell, right? Right!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making The Angel Sing

**Author's Note:**

> Man, I had posted some of this stuff many months ago on my tumblr, but completely forgot about it. Then I randomly stumbled upon this when looking for some unfinished stuff to procrastinate with. Turns out, instead of just one or two simple drabbles, I had written 9k for this verse already. Not wanting this to go to waste, I'm gonna post it (and some more) here. All of this verse is pretty much just 75% smut, 20% suppressed feelings, and 5% the faint idea of a plot.

"Oh, come on, little angel, would you stop with the struggling already? We both know that if you didn't want this, I'd be nothing but ashes already,” the demon grumbles against the overly warm and soft skin of the idiot who tries to complain and wiggle, always enough as to annoy the demon but never actually shaking him off.

"You misunderstand me, Dean,” he gasps and squirms a bit more as the demon's kisses travel lower down his back. "The only reason I allow you to keep living is because I can still see light in you and— _ah_ —" The teeth clamping around the waistband of his dark pants and tugging them down in a slow motion in which his bare buttocks are getting exposed to the eyes and the hot breath of Dean are making it excessively difficult to speak. "A— and for what you did.”

The demon huffs a laugh, his breath damply ghosting over the other creature's backside. Castiel shivers.

"What? You're trying to tell me you let me do what I want because I am _good at heart_ and you still _owe_ me?” One of his hands spreads the angel's legs while the other slides between them from behind, cupping the hard and dripping cock that's already waiting there just for his touch. Castiel can't help but groan as Dean strokes it a few times into an unbearable hardness, until he lets his hand travel back to his cheeks, satisfied because this was all anyone would ever need to know as to see how much of a liar the angel was. Not that Dean needed the confirmation — he knows anyway. "That's a bunch of bull, and you know that. If this was about you owing me, you'd probably see your debt as settled by now by all that we've done." He smirks. "And you wouldn't come back again and again to me, actually going _commando_ — which, _fuck,_ Cas —, begging for my touch and breaking under it every time.”

"I'm not begging for your touch, demon,” he grunts out, but his words are clearly lacking in credibility when the demon finally lays both his hands onto the angel's cheeks and pushes them apart, by which he gains an excellent view of the perfectly pink and deceptively unused looking hole that clenches in undeniable arousal upon its exposure to Dean. Castiel pressing back, presenting himself even more, doesn't help matters much either.

"Yeah, I can see that”, the demon chuckles, spreading the supple cheeks completely and perfectly to his gaze. "So, from that I can gather you are telling me you don't enjoy when I do _this_.” He draws nearer just that bit more, opens his from kisses and punches equally swollen lips and lets his wet, hot tongue lick a stripe over the angel's perineum, up to his already twitching hole, pressing a soft kiss onto it.

Castiel whimpers, though he tries to muffle the sounds he makes by pressing his face into the pillow beneath him. Dean knows that if he were to see his angel's — and yes, Castiel is _his_ angel — eyes, there'd be overwhelmed tears there. Tears that he has kissed away on many occasions already, even though Castiel tried to fight against him doing so. That is, he went on about how Dean should — quite literally — get off his face, but still let him do it, sometimes even clinging to him after a short while and generally becoming pure wax in his hands. While he'd never admit to it, the demon liked this best. Holding something so holy, knowing that the angel willingly falls apart time and time again under his touch, and lets himself get put together by those tainted hands again. It's unbelievable how clingy a celestial being can be after a couple of orgasms, and it's sweet, in a way. More than in a way, actually. But both he and Castiel never talk about those tender moments between them, not even to make fun of it or anything, so Dean never quite knows what to make of them.

But he does know what to make of the situation right now, with the writhing and beautiful angel beneath him as he presses another kiss onto his twitching rim. And another. And another. And finally lets his tongue properly play with the tight muscle, breaching it.

"Y— yes,” Castiel whispers breathlessly. Ever since Dean told him how much he adores hearing him, he stopped holding back those sweet little sounds and pleads, especially because Dean nowadays insists on him asking for and encouraging what he wants.

Dean's hand kneads those firm and flushed cheeks, spreading them as he likes, sometimes way too much for what a human being would consider too shameful and maybe even painful, but that is only if the angel allowed the pain to come — which he more than often did, because it was quite obvious that the pain was as much part of his pleasure as everything else that happened when the two of them fucked. It didn't even matter if Dean went a bit far at that, because Castiel's mojo never allowed for him to be truly hurt for a longer span of time, unless he was severely wounded or anything. His vessel always regenerated, making him whole again, which was also the reason as to why he'd never be anything but tight and clean and overwhelmed by Dean's ministrations, just like a virgin — because each time they fucked, he was actually that. A virgin, touched for the very first time and all that. Of course, technically the two of them are far from that, and if only because they have been fucking every night for the better part of the last half a year, generally more than once, but Castiel's body didn't register that. Every kiss and bite is something his body isn't used to, every orgasm his first ever.

Dean couldn't deny that he really does like that. Sure, before him, Castiel never had any sexual experiences, so it wasn't like he wouldn't have been considered a virgin in any case, not that Dean would have cared back then or now if things were different, but to know that he is the first to fuck and make him cry out each day anew does have its merits. Castiel very obviously thinks the same.

"Yes _what_ , angel? Is this a belated answer to my question, and you're telling me you don't enjoy this? Or are you saying that _yes_ , this is _good_ , that this is _precisely what you want_ and how much you enjoy it when I lick you all wet and open for me so that it doesn't hurt as much but still hurts exactly right when I finally push my thick and fucking condemned cock into you, widening your falsely virginal hole with every thrust until you can feel my unholy seed pumping into you, staining you so _fucking deliciously_ that you can't help but come clenching and crying and pleading, for _me_ and me _alone,_ and not your _God_?”

The angel's breath hitches, and Dean can feel how his hole twitches and twitches around the inserted tip of his tongue.

" _Dean_ ,” Castiel croaks out in something like an answer, just as much a prayer as a curse. Surely, though, riddled with a myriad of accusations and a covert _fuck you._ The demon understands each and every notion his name in Castiel's mouth carries, and soaks them up appreciatively.

Which is why he almost hums when he drives his tongue even deeper into his angel, making him _keen_ and pray and curse and cry out when he comes all over Dean's hand.


End file.
